


Of Humans and Salarians

by TypingBosmer



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Custom Female Ryder | Sara, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Heartwarming, Hurt/Comfort, Kallo Needs A Hug, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23229478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypingBosmer/pseuds/TypingBosmer
Summary: A sharp photographic memory does not make it easy for Kallo to fly the very ship he used to work on with a team of friends that have been dead for centuries. But Ryder does her best to ensure that her favourite Salarian gains new, happy memories as well.
Relationships: Female Ryder | Sara & Kallo Jath, Female Ryder | Sara & Tempest Crew
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	Of Humans and Salarians

Humans forget, but Salarians remember.

Kallo has carried his past, his friends, across countless light years of deep, dark space - he knows the exact number, of course, but right now he is too… emotional to bring up the figures. Back in the Milky Way, they are all dead; their eyes played out before he made even a quarter of his journey in stasis.

In fact, enough centuries have passed for their very DNA to be lost in the changing of generations. But here, on the Tempest, Kallo still sees them. Or - or almost sees them.

It is hard to look at a coffeemaker without picturing impatient hands reaching for a cup, three drops spilling as a sleep-deprived human scientist gets the coveted, steaming bean essence.

It is hard to look at a pencil - not that they have a lot of those onboard; still, sometimes Suvi decides to sketch a fossil the old-fashioned way - without imagining it in the colour green. With indentations from being chewed on, in the middle of tackling yet another design problem.

It is hard to hear footsteps, to glimpse a shadow in the corner of his eye, without an irrational, yet overwhelming feeling of what human dictionaries would define as… premonition. A whisper in his skull that tells him, with all the certainty of science, that if he turns his head, he will see them all again. He knows - he knows! - that it’s just Cora, hurrying to check the email terminal for news of the asari ark perhaps… But that does not make the whisper any quieter.

No, whisper is too strong a word. If he lets it slip that he is hearing voices, Lexi will have him quarantined. And he can’t have that. He can’t have anyone else guiding the Tempest among the stars, through the tendrils of the Scourge, from one planet to the next. He is the only one who remembers, after all.

Not whisper, then - a subconscious impulse. It does not leave him be; his memories do not leave him be. The past is still happening before his eyes, overlaying the present.

But… But the present does offer a few comforting images of its own. And when he adds them to the catalogue of his photographic memory, those flashes - coffee splatters and green pencils and approaching footsteps - sting a little less.

There are the intricate, lace-like leaves of the tropical potted plant that sways on his dashboard, purple bioluminescence pulsing softly in the darkness of space.

‘Picked it on Havarl,’ Ryder tells him, passing the little thing over with gentle care, as if it were the newborn cub of one of those furry Earth mammals. 'Thought it would be like having a little bit of home’.

There is the flicker of a hologram in the meeting room, splashing a little blue on the white Initiative uniforms.

'Those crops you said we could grow,’ Addison says slowly, her digital projection measuring Ryder and Liam with an intent gaze. 'They are all… Pizza ingredients’.

'Well yeah!’ the two humans explain in unison, and burst into laughter. Kallo cannot quite grasp the humour here, but Ryder catches his eye, and an echo of that sound, alien but happy, nestles within him. Nothing like the echo of dead friends’ footsteps.

There is the fine, red-gold thread outlining Ryder’s silhouette, as she studies the galaxy map, backlit by the flare of a red giant… And then turns away from the zigzagging charts and the blinking nav points, and gives Kallo a wave.

'Hello again! I hope you are having fun flying us around,’ she greets him. And he… He rather is.

Salarians remember. But humans - humans feel. Humans sympathize, even if without properly understanding. Humans want to help make the pain subside, even if in the tiniest ways. And Ryder seems particularly apt at that.


End file.
